


His Greatest Critic

by PenguinofProse



Series: Smutty Saturdays [19]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bellamy and Clarke get competititive, Lots of it, Multi, Oral Sex, Sex Education, Smut, Smut with a Bellarke ending, Smutty Saturday, Threesomes, kind of, not really - Freeform, steps one to four
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:14:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28505796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PenguinofProse/pseuds/PenguinofProse
Summary: In which Clarke offers Bellamy some unexpected criticism.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Bree, Bellamy Blake/Bree/Clarke Griffin, Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Bellamy Blake/Fox, Bellamy Blake/Fox/Clarke Griffin, Bellamy Blake/Stirling/Clarke Griffin, Bree/Clarke Griffin, Fox/Clarke Griffin, Stirling/Bellamy Blake, Stirling/Clarke Griffin, minor relationships - Relationship
Series: Smutty Saturdays [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1930432
Comments: 34
Kudos: 127





	His Greatest Critic

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a smutty Saturday set in season one, more or less. Except some time before getting put in solitary Clarke found time to learn how to be a bit of a sexpert. Please note there's going to be some other folks involved in Bellamy and Clarke's sex life to begin with so you might prefer to go find something else to read if that's not your thing. Huge thanks to Stormkpr for betaing this. Happy reading!

Bellamy is expecting criticism, when Clarke walks up to him by the water barrels. Or if not criticism, at the very least _teasing_. He has to admit that their relationship has been characterised more by banter than by actual judgement since that trip to the supply depot and his pardon for shooting Jaha. But the point stands. He's expecting her to pick holes with _something_.

He's just not expecting his sexual prowess to be the target of her criticism.

"Why is it that girls always look more excited when they enter your tent than satisfied when they leave your tent?" She asks him, brow arched.

He swallows. He's very competent in bed, thank you very much. He suspects that the disappointment of the girls leaving his tent is more because of the actual fact of _leaving_ – as in, they're disappointed that he never asks anyone to stay for some kind of long term relationship. Even if they sleep the night, they're on their way again the next morning, only to be invited back again if he fancies their help soothing an itch.

But he's not going to say that to Clarke. Just because he once wept with her beneath a tree, does not mean they're suddenly the kind of very close friends who would discuss such big issues as his cynicism about love.

"I guess I just leave them wanting more." He says with a shrug. He hopes it looks and sounds suitably careless.

Clarke snorts. "I call bullshit. I think you're not as skilful as you think you are."

"Who are you to talk?" He banters back. Last thing he checked, she's only hooked up with one person since they landed here.

"I'll have you know I'm pretty great at going down on girls." She says easily, as if it's no big deal.

He gasps slightly. He can't help it. He's always found Clarke more attractive than he probably should and now he has this vision in his mind's eye of her going down on another girl right in front of him – while he gets her off in turn, preferably. God, that sounds even hotter than having Bree and Roma over together the other night.

So that's why he abandons what little self control he ever had and says it.

"Maybe you should give me lessons." He offers lightly.

"Lessons?"

"Yeah. Come join me some time when I've got a girl over. Show me how it's done. Give me some constructive criticism." He suggests, tone teasing. If he frames it as a joke she won't realise how pathetically eager he is for her to say yes, right?

Clarke considers it carefully for a few seconds. Of course she does – she's Clarke. And then she nods, brisk and firm, before picking up her bucket and moving away from the water barrel.

Was that a yes? Was that acceptance?

Why does her dismissive attitude feel so much like rejection?

…...

He leaves it a couple of days. He doesn't want to look too eager. But for the record, he's feeling extremely eager. Not because he thinks there's anything wrong with his oral skills, to be honest. More because he likes bantering and competing with Clarke, and because she's hot, so having her challenge him to match her in the bedroom sounds like a recipe for a good time.

And when he's left it a couple of days, and he's feeling suitably confident and relaxed, he wanders up to her by the fire one evening.

"So are you still up for giving me those lessons we talked about?" He asks, smirking determinedly and choosing to gloss over the fact that, really, _he_ talked about lessons while she only nodded.

She raises her chin a little, meets his gaze head on. "Sure. When were you thinking?"

"Ten minutes' time? I plan on inviting Bree over." Bree is a safe bet, he thinks. She likes him, as far as he can tell. She always seems pleased when he tips her the wink.

"Now?" She asks, and just for a moment, he thinks he can see a hint of nervousness beneath her usual calm exterior.

"Or another time." He offers, carefully casual. "Whenever."

"Tonight's good." She says, with another one of those firm nods.

Well, then. That's that settled. He smirks at her a second longer, then makes a point of sauntering casually away. He should probably go ask Bree if she's keen.

Finding Bree is easily done. She just happens to be sitting a few feet away from his tent with a couple of friends, as if wondering whether he might stroll by. And she's on her feet and walking towards him the moment he gestures to her, and then she's enthusiastically consenting with her lips on his neck the moment he suggests he might take her to bed.

But he figures he should probably explicitly mention Clarke's presence before this goes too much further.

"I've invited Clarke to join us. Is that OK?" He asks, straightforward and to the point.

"Clarke?" Bree pulls back from his neck to ask, and he cannot quite read her tone.

"Yeah." He swallows. "It's cool if you're not up for that. We can make it just the two of us, whatever."

"No, it's cool. I'm in." Bree says eagerly. "I was just surprised. I didn't know she would be up for a three-way."

He laughs stiffly. "I'm not sure it'll be a... normal three-way. You know what she's like." Another staged laugh. "We got a bit competitive about who could eat a girl out the best so... here we are." It's more or less the truth, he figures.

"So, what, I'm judging this competition?" Bree asks, brow quirked.

"Yeah. God, this sounds bad. If you're uncomfortable we don't -"

"Relax, Bellamy." She laughs easily. "I'm not complaining. This should be good. But I expect she'll win." She says, totally matter of fact.

Bellamy frowns deeply. He's a little hurt, he doesn't mind admitting it. He thought Bree liked him, damn it.

"Why do you say that?" He asks, striving to keep his usual cocky tone.

"She was a bit of a legend, back on the Ark."

He swallows thickly. Clarke, a legend at eating pussy? This is a new development, to say the least.

"She was?"

"Yeah. I mean, we weren't close, but you know we're the same age. I heard things. One of my friends dated her a little while and said she was a genius with her mouth."

He gulps. He's suspected Clarke is a genius in many ways for some time now, for the record. And he'd already noticed that she has a rather special mouth.

But – yeah. This is a lot.

And of course, it's at that very moment that the legend herself appears, strolling around the corner of the woodshed like she's totally confident and comfortable with what's about to happen. That's a good thing, of course, because Bellamy likes his bedmates to feel confident and comfortable in his tent.

But he's not feeling so confident and comfortable himself, right now, and he doesn't mind admitting it.

It's not that he wants to call a halt. He's looking forward to this with more desperate eagerness than he's ever looked forward to any other sexual experience in his life, he's pretty sure. He's just feeling rather nervous at the same time.

It doesn't matter, in the end. The two girls have confidence to spare, and that reminds him in turn that he really does know his way around the bedroom. He feeds off their high spirits and by the time they're all in his tent and starting to undress, he's feeling at least half way back to his usual cocksure self.

Clarke doesn't seem to be undressing much, he notes. She's only shed her jacket so far, while Bree is already shivering in bra and panties.

He stops noticing such things very abruptly when Clarke walks right up to whisper intimately in his ear.

"Lesson one – foreplay." She murmurs. "I take it you kissed her a bit while you were waiting out there for me?"

He didn't, actually. He was too busy learning that Clarke is apparently something of a legend in this area. But he's not about to admit that, so he just makes a little grunting noise and supposes she can take that as she will.

Honestly, he's not sure he has it in him to say anything more eloquent when her lips are ghosting against his ear like this.

"Lesson two – undressing." She continues. "Always go topless when you're giving oral, even if you don't plan to take it any further. A girl wants to feel bare skin against the inside of her thighs."

He swallows hard. Clarke talking about bare skin is doing dangerous things to his self-control, here. He makes another one of those grunting noises, hopes she'll take that as her cue to continue.

She does. "Best be totally naked, to be honest. It gives a better visual."

God. _It gives a better visual_. She's so – so _Clarke_ , and he's not sure he can handle it.

Why is Bree even here again? Oh, right. A pretext for Clarke to get naked. He grunts once more, pulls away from her dangerous lips and starts stripping. She did say he should be naked, after all.

Was he supposed to make this sexy, he wonders? Was he supposed to get Bree involved in undressing him? Or is he supposed to treat this more clinically, like the lesson he is pretending it is?

He tries not to look at Clarke while he undresses, because he knows she must be undressing too. He gets himself stark naked without too much self-consciousness. If there's one thing he's confident of, it's that he's got a decent body and a substantial cock. This is an aspect of the lesson he's certain he cannot fail, an area where he feels safe from Clarke's criticism.

Then he remembers what Clarke said about foreplay, and heads over to give Bree some attention. He kisses her deeply, hungrily, and sets about removing her underwear all the while. She's an attractive young woman, and fun in bed, and there's a reason he's invited her over so often recently. She's almost managing to take his mind off the fact that Clarke's watching them.

Almost.

He jumps a mile when he hears the soft voice start to whisper his next set of instructions in his ear. And that makes it worse, of course, because he jumps straight into Clarke's naked body, feels her breasts pressing up against his side, and finds himself somewhat stunned all over again.

Dear God, but she must be _trying_ to torment him.

He gathers the shreds of his self control, tries to listen to her words.

"Good work, Bellamy. Decent foreplay."

He swallows thickly. Hearing Clarke praise him has his cock throbbing uselessly in midair.

"Step three is the big one – getting to know your partner. Even if it's just a one-time thing, you need to know what they like. And if you have a long evening planned it can be useful to know other things, too. Can they orgasm more than once in a session? Is penetration on the cards or are we keeping to oral?"

He takes a deep breath. He feels ridiculous asking any of those things – he's slept with Bree before now, apart from anything else. But he supposes Clarke's right. Maybe his bedmates would look more consistently satisfied if he asked for input more often.

"Hey, Bree. You up for some oral?" He asks, cheeks heating. He's pretty sure he made that sound even more stilted than it needed to.

She giggles lightly. "Sure. That's why I'm here, right? I hear I'm getting two rounds and comparing." She teases.

Clarke speaks up, now. "Anything I should know before we get started?"

Bree shakes her head. "I've heard it said I'm pretty easy to please." She says with a shrug.

Clarke nods. She frowns for a moment. And then, of course, she steps right up to drag her damn breasts against Bellamy's side again.

Sorry – she steps up to whisper instructions to him. Naturally. Silly of him to imagine there's any other motivation at play in her actions.

"Step four – the act itself. This is a long one, so listen up. The first rule – don't try too hard. Keep it gentle, especially at first. And simple is often better. Some people like you to do very little and they basically fuck your face. I'd suggest starting out with a moderate approach and reading the reaction – try just sealing your lips around the labia for a little suction, then working the clit with your tongue if she's into that. Sucking is more pleasant than licking, most people find."

Right. OK. That's more complicated than he was expecting, to be honest. He doesn't think he's terrible at this, and basically all he ever does is put his face in a woman's pussy and lick along it sometimes and hope for the best. And honestly, they usually come, so how bad can it be?

Oh god. Step four isn't over. She's still talking.

"Remember the hands. You know Bree better than I do – maybe you have some ideas there. Is she into having her nipples stimulated? Does she want you to hold her down? Most of all, keep reading her response."

OK. She's done now. That's it. No more endless instructions. He should have known, when he invited Clarke of all people into his sex life, that he was in for a lecture. Honestly, he doesn't even want her help that much.

He's beginning to realise it would probably have been simpler just to ask if he could fuck her.

No. Stop. That's a dangerous thought. She's just here to be a helpful friend and sex mentor, and that's fine.

"I'm going first." Clarke says, now. "Watch and learn."

He does watch and learn. There's Clarke, urging Bree to lie back in the furs, and then crouching over her. It's a lot, honestly. There's two women – both women he's very attracted to – making love on the floor of his tent. It's a blessing at least, he supposes, that Clarke's breasts are hidden beneath her and her face is largely obscured by her task.

But all the same, it's almost too much for his self-control. His cock is throbbing and he just can't resist reaching down to wrap his hand around it, just tugging gently as if to soothe the hot rush of arousal.

No. That didn't work. That hasn't soothed anything. It's just made him even more desperate to get in there and join them.

He clasps his hands behind his back, forces himself to watch carefully while Clarke works. The thing he notices most of all from here is what she said about reading her partner's reactions. He likes to think he's considerate in bed, but Clarke appears to be very tuned in to each moan or gasp, draws out more of the same when she finds something Bree likes.

Honestly, he's disappointed when Bree comes. He'd have quite happily watched that all evening – and then the next day, too. But he knows that's not what they're doing, here. That was an educational demonstration, and that's as it should be.

He takes over, then, and does his best with step four. He really appreciates the clear instructions about what to do with his mouth, actually. He feels less like he's pushing buttons at random and hoping to notice what sticks. And he knows Bree pretty well so he knows just how to work her nipples, and before long she's coming a second time.

He rocks back on his heels, feeling moderately pleased with himself. That could have gone worse, he thinks.

"So? What's the verdict?" He asks Bree brightly.

She looks thoughtful for a moment before she speaks. "Honestly? Clarke's actual mouth was a little better. But you know better what I like, and you got your hands spot on."

Huh. He wonders if that counts as an inconclusive outcome. And he knows he should probably be a little disappointed that he didn't win outright, but honestly, that's not what's on his mind right now.

No – he's too busy wondering if this is reasonable grounds to challenge Clarke to a rematch.

He doesn't get the chance, though. Clarke nods, smiling that somehow _brisk_ smile of hers, and starts pulling on her clothes.

"Thanks, Bree. I had a good time. Hope you two have a great evening."

And then she just strides straight out of the tent, as if leaving half way through a threesome is a perfectly normal thing to do.

No. It's not a threesome, of course, and it never was. It was just a helpful lesson, and now the lesson is over, and now she's gone on her way.

As she should.

Whatever. She's gone, now, and he's hardly going to chase her and invite her to stay. And his cock is throbbing, and there's a perfectly lovely woman right here, and he supposes he probably ought to get on with this.

He hopes he'll feel better once he's come, at least.

…...

He expects things to be awkward, the following morning. Clarke got naked in his tent, taught him how to eat a woman out, and then up and left with scarcely a word. Surely that will be awkward?

It turns out that, once again, he has underestimated Clarke Griffin.

"Morning." She greets him brightly, as she takes her breakfast from the ration shed.

"Clarke. Hey." He swallows. "You get home alright last night?"

She frowns at him slightly. "I live twenty yards away, Bellamy."

"Yeah. I know. Just trying to look out for you." He admits, eyes on his apple and strip of venison jerky.

She elbows him lightly. "I know. Thanks. And you know, last night was pretty fun. Let me know if you need a refresher course sometime."

With that she is gone, striding away across the camp.

But this time, he doesn't resent her going. He doesn't mind being left with his thoughts, having a moment to process what just happened. That's the first time since he suggested this silly scheme that she's actually seemed to be trying to _initiate_ , perhaps. Sure, she looked pretty enthusiastic in his tent last night, but he figured she was just keen to show him up.

Huh. Maybe he might ask her for that _refresher course_ , one of these days.

…...

He asks Fox to join them, the next time. For reasons he cannot quite articulate, he doesn't feel comfortable with the idea of Bree seeing him stare at his helpful oral instructor too often. He fears she might notice he's a little too interested in Clarke, or something.

He approaches Fox in a way that is more functional than subtle.

"Hey, Fox. You got any plans tonight?"

She brightens. "No. Why do you ask?"

"Want to come back to my place for some fun? Clarke's coming over, too." He says, carefully casual.

Or rather – he _hopes_ Clarke's coming over. He hasn't actually asked her yet. He thinks it'll look less obsessively, eagerly planned and more casual if he invites her at the last minute.

Fox looks thrilled. "You _and_ Clarke? You mean like – like with Bree the other day?"

He coughs awkwardly. "You heard about that?" If Fox heard about it, he fears half the camp might have heard about it.

"It's hard to keep secrets round here." Fox shrugs. "You're serious? You _and_ Clarke?"

God. He really hopes Clarke says yes, now, otherwise he's going to look a total fool.

"Yeah. You want to meet us at my tent? I'll just go fetch her now."

Fox is only too happy to agree to that, heading cheerfully off in the direction of his tent.

Great. Now he just needs to get Clarke on board.

He finds her in the dropship's improvised med bay. She spends too much time there, honestly. They don't have any patients at the moment but she's winding bandages all the same. Bellamy's noticed she has this slightly obsessive tendency to make sure she's prepared for the next unforeseen disaster. He supposes that's her way of coping with the chaos of the ground.

"You want to take a break from that and give me a _refresher course_?"

She treats him to a small smile. "You need a _refresher course_?"

"Of course I do. Bree did say your mouth was better."

She grins, sets down her bandages and steps towards him. She's standing close, almost as close as if she were whispering instructions in his ear.

"Sure. I'm in."

He steps back. He simply has to, otherwise he'll kiss her, and he's pretty certain that would be a disaster.

"Great. Fox is waiting for us at my place."

Without letting Clarke disturb his composure any further, he leads the way out of the dropship and towards his tent. He opens the door, lets both Clarke and Fox inside, and is proud of himself for focusing on logistics rather than his roaring pulse and fast-thickening cock.

He takes the lead a bit more. He's pleased with himself for that – he'll show Clarke he's learnt a thing or two. He spends some time making out with Fox, stripping both her and himself naked all the while. He sort of wants to include Clarke in this, too, but he's not sure how to do that without crossing the carefully drawn boundaries around what they're doing here.

She solves it for him.

"My turn." She whispers in his ear, stepping right up to press her bare skin to his again. Does she know how much that drives him crazy? He thinks she might do. She did seem to be good at reading Bree last time. Is she doing it on purpose, then?

He gives way to her, steps aside so she and Fox can kiss and touch each other for a while. It's a good show, and he strokes himself a little all the while, and yet he wants more. Even more strongly than last time, he's just desperate to go over there and get involved.

That's why he decides he needs to act. He needs to move along to the next step before he can make a total fool of himself.

"Me first this time." He whispers to Clarke. Hah. There. See how she likes to be teased. His cock is jutting right into her butt cheek and he figures that ought to provoke a reaction.

To his disappointment, she seems totally unfazed. Or maybe she's just very good at keeping a straight face. She nods, pulls back, and lets him step forward to kiss Fox a couple of moments more.

"Is it alright if I go down on you?" He asks Fox softly. "Anything I should know before we get started?"

Damn it, how did Clarke end up there? How did she manage to move so she's looking proudly over from behind Fox, nodding smugly and showing him he did a good job of step three? Is she trying to drive him crazy with that avert approval?

Fox is enthusiastic and has nothing much to add, so he gets started.

He doesn't know Fox as well as he knows Bree. They haven't hooked up anywhere near as often, so he makes a careful point of observing her responses to his actions. She seems to like it more when he's very gentle, so he sticks with that, even though it feels a little unusual to him. That's what Clarke would want him to do, he's pretty sure.

He finds himself thinking about what Clarke would want him to do a lot. That's probably wrong, when he has his face between another woman's legs. But he wonders whether she might congratulate him, if he wins this round. Or whether she'll just look really proud of him.

Or whether she'll invite him to show her what he's learnt by going down on her, next.

He forces himself to concentrate more carefully on Fox. He needs to get this right. He _is_ getting it right, in fact, it turns out as she comes with a loud sigh.

He pulls away, makes room for Clarke. He stares a little too closely as she has a quiet whispered conversation with Fox.

He wonders what the kids are saying about all this, thinks of whatever rumour must have reached Fox from Bree. Are they going to think it's weird, that he and Clarke keep inviting girls into his tent for two oral orgasms and then a closing round with him? It's a little... _clinical_ , isn't it?

Maybe that's another reason to ask Clarke if she wants to turn this into something that more closely resembles an actual threesome.

Fox comes slightly more quickly for Clarke. He doesn't know whether that's a good thing or not. But either way she's there, and then Clarke is pulling away and Fox is sitting up with a sheepish smile.

"Dead heat." She declares, before either of them has asked the question.

Well, then. It seems like the rumour that has got around must have been pretty detailed.

Clarke doesn't seem worried about that. She just laughs lightly. "Seriously?"

"Yeah." Fox shrugs. "Sorry."

Maybe they'll have to try again another day, Bellamy muses. Wouldn't that be a crying shame? He thanks Fox for her honesty, turns to grin at Clarke with a tangled mixture of apology and triumph.

She grins right back at him, and just for a moment he thinks she'll stay. He thinks she'll step forward and kiss him soundly, ask whose turn it is next. Insist on going on top, probably, and have a cheerful argument about what they ought to try together.

He steps towards her. He can't help it. His cock is throbbing and he thinks his heart might be aching as he starts closing the distance between them.

But then she reaches for her underwear. _Of course_ she reaches for her underwear. He sighs in disappointment, tries to turn it into a cough.

She's dressed and gone before he even manages to clear his throat and say goodbye.

…...

He's going to ask her to stay, the next time. That's what he decides. He should probably even ask her to stay when he's issuing the invitation in the first place, he thinks, and make it clear that he really does mean a proper threesome where she's actively involved and stays the course.

Should he just invite her over alone? Would that be simpler? Is he that brave?

It's the silliest thing. He's brave when it comes to defending the kids or hunting wild animals or physical dangers like that. But he's fallen for Clarke hard and fast, and he's frightened of getting it wrong. She's become one of his closest friends, since that day she showed him such support at the depot, and above all they must continue to run a camp functionally together.

It just feels like this could easily go wrong. He could so easily lose one of the best things in his rather crappy life.

It shouldn't be a big deal. He has sex all the time, with many people. And apparently she's pretty experienced in the art of casual oral as well. Maybe he could just invite her over and keep it lighthearted until he figures out whether she's seriously interested.

Maybe pursuing their current project of educational threesomes is safer, though.

He just needs to get on with it. Stop procrastinating, start acting. That's why he marches right up to her at the fire pit one evening and tries a slightly different angle.

"Are you an expert on cocksucking, as well?" He asks her.

She pulls a thoughtful face. He's pretty sure she's teasing. "Maybe not an _expert_. But I know a thing or two."

"I was hoping you'd say that. Want to share some tips?"

"You want tips on sucking cocks?" She clarifies, frowning. Does she look disappointed? He's not entirely sure.

He shrugs. "Yeah. It's something I've not done in a little while. I figure I could use some practice."

"Sure. Who's joining us?"

"I guess I'd probably ask Stirling."

"Great. You want to go ask him and I'll meet you at your place?"

He gulps. Now? They're doing this _now_? Is she eager, or just being her usual brisk self?

Either way, it seems, the decision is made. He watches her walk away, and realises that he's missed his chance to clarify that he'd really like to interact more with her himself, this time round. With a sigh he sets out to find Stirling. He understands Stirling is a guy who swings both ways, if what he's heard around camp and the interested looks he's sometimes seen the guy give him are true. He's less sure whether he's into dysfunctional threesomes, of course, but it's worth a try.

He finds Stirling, exchanges a few cheerful sentences of greeting. And then he gets on with the real point of the conversation.

"Got any plans tonight?" He asks in a careful tone.

"Not really. Why do you ask?"

"Just wondering if you want to join me and Clarke for an evening at my place?"

"You're serious? You and Clarke are inviting me to one of your threesomes?" He asks, eager.

 _One of your threesomes_? That's interesting, Bellamy thinks. That makes it sound like these odd invitations are becoming something of a legend in themselves. A hot commodity, perhaps. Maybe they need to be careful, here. He can see that being invited to bed by the two leaders of the camp could carry social currency, and that there's the potential for troublesome camp politics if this gets out of hand.

He really should just start sleeping with Clarke.

In the meantime, though, he needs to answer Stirling's question.

"Yeah. I guess we are."

"Great. I'm game."

So it is that Bellamy walks Stirling back towards his tent and opens the door. It seems that Clarke has been making herself at home in his absence – she's already got her boots off and is lying sprawled over the makeshift bed.

She sits up in a hurry when they enter, cheeks a little flushed.

"Just getting settled." She offers pertly.

Bellamy smiles. He simply cannot help himself. She looks so at home there, nestled amongst his furs. He doesn't really want her to ever leave.

Then he gets things moving. He reaches for Stirling, starts with a few heated kisses, with undressing him swiftly. And this evening, for the first time, he dares to reach out to Clarke, too. In between kissing Stirling he dares to tug playfully at the hem of Clarke's shirt, giving her a hint to undress, and he even allows himself to run a hand up the bare skin of her lower back, just for a second or two.

Then he gets even braver, and turns to look at her expectantly, issuing a silent challenge to her to step up and torment him and tell him what she wants him to do.

She takes his hint. As always, she presses her breasts up against him as she reaches to whisper in his ear.

"Steps one to three are pretty similar to with women, in my experience. And the part of step four about paying attention to how your partner responds, that's the same too. Honestly, I think the most important tip is not to worry about getting it all down your throat. You can fit as much in your mouth as as you can but then work the rest with your hand."

He turns to look at her. He has a feeling it might be dangerous, being this close to her lips. Isn't it Stirling he's supposed to be kissing?

"I don't agree." He says smoothly. "I think taking it as deep as you can is important."

"Well, yeah, as deep as you _can_. But depth isn't everything. Your hands can contribute too."

"No. You're wrong."

"We'll see about that."

Without further ado she steps up to Stirling and starts kissing him hotly, pushing Bellamy none too subtly out of the way. And then she's manoeuvring herself and her partner onto the bed and getting started, licking up the length of him before she takes the head of his cock into her mouth.

Somehow this is even hotter than watching her work on Bree or Fox, Bellamy decides. Maybe it's the fact there's a cock involved and he can imagine it's his own. Or maybe the jealousy he's feeling in this moment - jealousy that it's _not_ his cock - is heightening his arousal.

But even through the fog of desire, he really can see that Clarke isn't taking Stirling that deep down her throat. That's hardly surprising, perhaps – she's not a big woman. But Bellamy finds himself suddenly concerned that his cock is larger than Stirling's and if Clarke ever does try to suck him off, it looks like he won't fit too well.

Not that it matters, of course, if he never gets the courage to ask her to.

Stirling is a bit more vocal than the girls he's hosted recently. He's been moaning and groaning since Clarke started work, and now he's using actual words, too.

"That's – uh – that's really good."

"I still think it would be better if you took him deeper." Bellamy observes. He considers himself a bit more of an expert in this area – after all, he's got a cock, and he knows what feels good to him.

"No. This is good." Stirling claims, peering down as if to try to make reassuring eye contact with Clarke.

"But deeper is better." Bellamy insists with conviction.

Clarke raises her head, turns to look at him.

"Don't stop. It's great." Stirling begs, to no avail.

"You're wrong." She tells Bellamy mildly. "He's having a good time, I feel confident and comfortable. Everyone wins."

"It feels really good." Stirling agrees.

"I don't believe you." Bellamy says outright.

"Fine." Stirling sits up, scoots back on the makeshift mattress. "Sure. Clarke – why don't you show him he's wrong?"

She nods, slowly. Wow. Oh wow. Whatever doubts Bellamy might have about her blow job technique, no way is he passing up this chance to get her mouth on his cock.

"You sure?" He asks her softly.

She nods again, more swiftly this time. "Yeah. Got to prove you wrong." She says lightly.

He laughs, settles down in front of her.

And then suddenly her mouth is on his cock and he's seeing stars.

Honestly, he thinks she could have given him a bit more warning. Her suddenly getting started has him huffing out a surprised gasp, reaching for her hair just because he needs something to hold onto. It's a lot, having Clarke abruptly fasten her lips around him. And she's got a hand curled around the base of his cock, too, and her other arm is lying across his stomach to hold him still, and he could swear her mouth must be magic.

He takes a few deep breaths, tries to rein his reaction in a little. Feels the furs under his back and butt and focuses on the texture. So this is happening. His good friend Clarke is sucking his cock to prove a point. And she's doing what she recommended – taking only the first part of his cock into her mouth and using her hand on the rest.

OK. Well. She might have a point. It feels pretty good.

No – that's a lie. It feels _fantastic_ , but he's convinced that ninety percent of that is because this is _Clarke_ rather than because she's doing anything particularly skilful. He's had something of a crush on her for a while, has had two and a half long evenings of unconventional foreplay to build the tension, so he figures that explains why he's so starstruck, now.

He doesn't notice that Stirling has started getting dressed until he sees him heading for the door, fully clothed.

Abruptly, he sits up, and Clarke pulls suddenly away from his cock.

"Hey. Stirling. Sorry." Bellamy begins, flustered. "We can -"

"Save it." Stirling says, smiling broadly. "I'm heading out. I'll leave you two to it."

Bellamy swallows. He can't meet Clarke's eye now. He just can't. Will she stay, if Stirling goes? Or is she freaked out by this turn of events?

"I didn't mean to make you feel left out. Sorry." Clarke says now.

"Don't be sorry. When I tell everyone I finally got you two together I'll be the most popular guy in the camp." He says brightly. "Have fun."

He's out the door before Bellamy has time to tell him it's not like that. _Is it_ like that? He's not sure.

Silence falls. Bellamy can hear his own ragged breathing, still panting from where Clarke left him hanging. He can hear her breathing, too, softer than his but nonetheless rougher than he thinks is strictly normal. And over and above everything else, he can hear his heart pounding frantically in his ears.

"Do you want me to finish sucking you off?" Clarke asks, totally matter of fact, shattering the silence.

"Yeah." He swallows. "Yeah, I really do. But – we'll be OK, right? I don't want to screw this up."

"You won't screw this up. You've got steps one to four down perfectly." Clarke tells him easily.

He gives a nervous laugh. "I didn't mean that. I'm going to rock your world, for the record. But I meant – I don't want this to make things awkward. I don't want to ruin _us_."

"I'm pretty sure that if we can survive a week of unbalanced threesomes without getting awkward, we'll survive actually getting together." She says, smiling that wry smile of hers.

"Yeah. I hope you're right. Shall we give it a go?"

She nods, turns the lower part of the motion into a ducking of her head towards his cock. She gets back to work, lips and tongue and hand working in unison, and he begins to wonder why he ever did think depth was important in the first place.

He lies back in the furs, relaxes and enjoys the ride. He reaches out to tangle one hand in her hair, and he rests the other over hers on his stomach. Maybe that's a bit weird or clingy or sappy, to be essentially holding her hand while she sucks him off, but he's just in a rather romantic and touchy mood right now.

"That's perfect." He whispers, rubbing a thumb over her knuckles.

She makes a little grunting noise, and he feels it shoot through his cock. Knowing her, she's probably agreeing that it _is_ perfect, thank you very much, he thinks affectionately.

She starts picking up the pace slightly, takes him careering closer to the edge. He's struggling to keep up with her, now, gasping for breath and clinging to her hand. And then he makes the critical mistake of looking down at her, seeing the curves of her butt sticking up into the air, just the quickest flash of blue eyes as she peers up at him despite the awkward angle.

"I'm close." He tells her, urgent. Damn it – why did they not do step three on _each other_? "I'm close, Clarke. I'm there. I'm -"

He falls apart with an alarmingly loud groan. He sure hopes she wanted to swallow, because it's too late to take it back now. He lies there for a moment, breathless and satisfied but also almost a little embarrassed by how shamelessly unhinged he was, there.

Clarke raises her head to look at him, smiling rather proudly.

"Do I win?" She asks, tone teasing.

"Think the competition's over." He jokes. "Or did you want me to say some cheesy line about how I must have won, and that was my prize?"

She giggles slightly, scoots up the bed towards him.

"You want to know something really funny? Pretty much my last thought before coming then was that we never did do step three on each other." He tells her, a little self-consciously.

That has her giggle developing into a full-blown burst of laughter. "You're right." She says, then chuckles a little more. He likes that. She's had precious little to laugh about on the ground.

"Let's try it now." He suggests to her. "Can I go down on you? Any tips before I get started?"

"In a minute. There's something I need to do first."

And then she's kissing him, full on the lips, eager and hot and a little messy, honestly. She tastes bitter from his come and yet it's not overpowering or offputting. It's just there, while he tastes her and holds her close and wonders whether this is what pure happiness feels like.

They've been kissing for several long minutes – but not long enough for his liking – when Clarke pulls away.

"OK. Now I'm up for some oral. I like to have my nipples tweaked. You'll know when you get it right."

Well, then. That's a very _Clarke_ instruction, he thinks. Clear and decisive yet challenging, all at once.

He supposes he'd better try to live up to her expectations.

He recites very carefully the rules for step four, as he gets to work. Or at least, he tries to. It's difficult to concentrate on technique when he's so overexcited at the sheer joy of getting to do this with and for Clarke after all this time wanting her. But he's very careful to use his mouth purposefully and subtly, to keep his hands busy, and most of all to watch her reactions.

He does figure out what she means by having her nipples tweaked. He figures it out quickly, in fact, because she hisses in pleasure the first time he rolls one between his thumb and finger. So he keeps doing that, because she likes it, but he gives her a bit of variety, too. He switches it up by skimming his fingers over her waist and stomach, and even by reaching out to hold her hand.

She likes the hand-holding a lot, it turns out. She grips his fingers tightly and doesn't seem to want to let go when he tries to tug away to go back to her breasts, so he stays put.

She's loud while he works, but not strictly talkative. It's more noises and moans and odd disjointed syllables than coherent conversation. He likes it a lot, honestly. It makes him feel like she's losing control, and he loves the idea that he can make that happen.

It's like the ultimate victory in one of their bickering matches.

Her legs are trembling about his ears by the time he makes sense of one particular syllable.

"Be – be." She pants, and he starts to wonder. "Be – Bel – Bell-my."

That's his name. Good god, that's his actual _name_. This is Clarke falling apart around his ears and gasping his _name_.

Yeah, he's going to need a round two after this.

He squeezes her hand harder. He'd love to be able to talk to her in this moment. To tell her she's safe, that she can let go, that he's got her. He supposes those are sentiments for another time, when his mouth is less preoccupied. But he tries to put as much of that reassurance as he can into pressing her fingers and rubbing his thumb over her knuckles, all at once.

When she comes, she does not come quietly. There's a long moan that sounds like a garbled attempt at his name, and she's pressing her hips right up into his face. And then she's relaxing, sinking into the bed with a sigh.

He can't stop smiling, as he scoots up the bed to lie by her side and hold her close. He thinks this is going to be really good for both of them, if the way this evening has gone so far is anything to go by. He thinks being together could make both of them really happy, and heaven knows they've had precious little happiness of late.

"You win." Clarke murmurs, while he's still gathering his thoughts.

"What?"

"You win. You're the best at giving oral. That was perfect." She says.

He grins broadly. If Clarke said that was perfect, it must have been perfect. She's his greatest critic, as well as his most loyal supporter.

But all the same, he doesn't think it's fair to say he won.

"You were perfect too. I don't think we can say I won."

"We definitely can. You did so well at reading me – I didn't even know I liked having my hand held like that, but you tried it and then read my reaction and stuck with it."

He tries to press a kiss to the crown of her head, but it's kind of ruined by the way he's smiling so widely. He just can't help feeling his heart warm at the way Clarke is trying to do some logical analysis of his oral technique while they're in the midst of their first night together.

"Maybe we'll have to have another tie-break round." He suggests.

Clarke snorts. "One of these days you're going to shut up about this being a competition and just admit you want to screw me."

"Yeah. I do. In case that wasn't clear."

She shifts a little, cranes her neck so she's looking right at him. "Right back at you. I'm pleased we're doing this."

"Me too."

He holds her quietly for a moment, wonders where to take this next. Does he want to initiate that second round right this second? Or does he just want to lie here and let the joy settle in for now?

"You know, I'm not planning to leave your tent any time soon. But if I did, I'd definitely look satisfied." Clarke tells him lightly.

It takes him a while to catch up with that. That's what she said, the day she first issued the challenge, isn't it? That's how she set them along this path. Something about his visitors never looking satisfied when they leave.

He decides to tease her right back in kind.

"If you're so satisfied I guess you won't be needing round two, then." He suggests.

The indignant squeal of protest she gives at that is all the answer he needs. He's got very good at step four, you see – reading her reactions.

In fact, he thinks, Clarke's advice has been very useful to him indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
